Beginnings in Darkness
by ZWig
Summary: It started out as nothing more than petty revenge. And it ended as nothing less than the beginning of the end of the world.


The blood dripped slowly down the two daggers Steps-Softly held in his hands. His breath came in short pants, and his heart pounded in his ears. The Argonian sheathed one dagger in the waist of his ragged pants and bent down to shut the eyes of one of the bodies. The first of his victims. The second was off to the side, eyes shut to ward off the death the Dunmer knew was coming.

"Arrogant soft-skins." The voice was little more than a hiss. The spines on Steps-Softly's head flared up at remembered annoyance. "Always thought yourselves better, came to our home, my sanctuary from your hatred. Well, who is better now?"

With those words, the extreme nervousness he felt at the murders gave way to relief and he laughed. A wild, manic sound, the laughter echoed around the room of the little shack that sat in the Waterfront. The Argonian lifted the other dagger and twirled it around in a victory dance, seeming not to notice the blood that ran down the hilt and along his arm, blending into his own dark red scales.

Laughter gave way to chuckles and those eventually gave way to just a grin. The Argonian stepped across the small room and sat down on his bed. Steps-Softly pulled the dagger from its makeshift sheath and held it up to its twin. With a careless shrug he tossed them both to the ground, one bouncing and coming to rest next to one of the bodies. He checked his bow, his prized possession, and the quiver under his pillow. Prudence had taught him that caution saved lives in the Waterfront. Steps-Softly stretched himself out on his bed, and suddenly exhausted, closed his eyes and fell into a restful sleep.

* * *

Lucien ghosted through the Waterfront, chameleon spell preventing unwanted eyes from seeing him. Finally coming to the right house, he opened the door to the shack. He stepped across the room, almost subconsciously stepping over the corpses. He glanced at the daggers on the floor, the bow by the bed, and the quiver under the pillow. Lucien smiled to himself. Even if this one wasn't well trained, he showed versatility. Lucien dismissed his chameleon spell and leaned down to touch the occupant of the bed.

In an explosion of motion, Lucien found himself on the bed with an arrowhead pressed against his stomach. He smiled again. This one definitely had potential. Lucien lifted his hands out to the side, showing he held no weapon. To the Argonian's credit, he did not relax in the slightest, like most people would.

"You are not of here."

Lucien's eyebrows twitched in surprise. Most people he contacted for the first time were scared witless. "I am Lucien Lachance, Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood. I wish to offer you a place among our unique family."

The pressure on his stomach relaxed slightly. Lucien's hand snapped down, grabbed the Argonian's wrist and twisted so that the Argonian was bent double. Lucien twisted further as he stood up, so that the Argonian was forced to his knees. Almost gently, Lucien placed his other hand on the Argonian's elbow. The slightest of pressures had Steps pressed further to the ground. Lucien allowed a moment to pass before releasing him.

"The Dark Brotherhood?" Steps-Softly asked as he stood. He rubbed his arm and winced as he bent it too far. Despite this, there was still a trace of awe in his sibilant voice. "It would be a great honor. And anywhere is better than here."

"Good," Lucien said. He reached into one of the sleeves of his robe and pulled out a dagger. "Here is a Blade of Woe. It is a mark of the Brotherhood." Lucien presented the hilt to the Argonian. Steps-Softly only nodded in thanks.

"Now, for your test of loyalty. To the south of here, there is an inn called the Inn of Ill Omen. Inside you will find a man named Rufio. You will kill him."

"Why?" the Argonian asked.

Lucien smiled. "He made the mistake of advanced payment for our services. But that is all the reason you will get, and likely more than you will ever get again." Lucien sneered. "We do not deal in 'why's,' we are not the Morag Tong." Steps nodded. A rapid set of words had Lucien

"Oh, and before I go, you might wish to wash your hands. Caked blood can pinch the skin."

* * *

Steps-Softly watched as the door opened and closed softly. Tossing the Blade of Woe onto the bed, he stepped over to the sole chest in the room and opened it. The Argnonian pulled out his only other change of clothes. A full set of leather armor dyed a deep green and enchanted to increase the ability of the wearer to remain unseen. He could have sold it; it would have improved his lot in life if he had, but he was now thankful he didn't. Steps placed it on his bed and set the Blade of Woe on it. He leaned down to pick up one of the daggers and cleaned it on the leg of his pants before adding it to the pile. Then he reached under his pillow and pulled out the quiver of arrows and pulled the strap over his neck and shoulder. Steps grabbed the bow and attached it to the quiver with a practiced motion. He picked up the pile of his armor and daggers and walked out of the shack to the nearby water.

Thankful for the dark of night, he dropped everything by the shore before peeling off his bloody clothes and slipping into the water. The Argonian stood in the waist deep water just off the shore and bent to scoop sand up off of the bottom. He rubbed the sand against his scales until the blood was gone. Then he waded to the shore and just stood for a few moments, grateful that water slipped off of his scales. Steps put on his armor and slipped the daggers into the specially designed sheathes at either hip, pulled the quiver back on and picked up the bow once more.

He looked to the east, towards Cheydinhal and grinned at the dark sky. No new beginnings for him. Just the still of the night and the warmth of the darkness.

* * *

_A/N:Just so it is known, this story will be slight AU, due to differentiation __in time __and contracts. This story takes place in 3E 32, roughly 400 years before the Oblivion crisis. See what I mean by AU? :) This is not done at random or to confuse people as I plan on having 'sequels' to this that requires certain things to happen in this time period. Also, I'm upscaling everything, it will take from days to weeks to travel from city to city. And instead of the Imperial City have maybe a thousand people, it will be home to tens of thousands, maybe in the hundred thousands.  
_

_Please tell me if you find **anything** wrong, whether it be a typo or wording you find awkward or something that doesn't make any sense at all. I'm kind-of sort-of a lot OCD about things like that and will obsess over it until I think it is good enough, which it never will be in my mind because I'm just that paranoid. But you all can help with things like that. One thing which I would like to hear the most of is if you get confused with the over-use of pronouns. 'Steps-Softly' isn't really a name that flows with words, so I found myself using 'he' way to much in my mind. And now that I've scared you all away from ever reviewing with my own criticism of myself, I would like to thank all of you for reading and please review. _

_Please? XD_


End file.
